Princess Thief [✔]

34. The Mark of Deliora

Trigger Warning: This chapter may contain scenes including violence, trauma, abuse, or emotional distress. If you are uncomfortable with the following, please skip this chapter.

SKERPLA DAY OF SATURN

The distance between the palace of Ezriel and Deliora took up to five hours by carriage at most but it had been doubled as it was past midnight the last time I checked my pocket watch. It was all due to the few mishaps we ran into.

The carriage made a huge bump as my head was seemingly pounded by countless hammers at the same time. My head hurt as if the king of hell personally hacked me. My body had long lost its strength that I could not even lift myself when I fell from the previous thud.

I lay on the carriage floor feeling nothing but numbness accompanied by a buzzing of unknown noises. My voice would not come out and nobody could help me. The frost touched my skin, slowly enclosing every inch of me with ease but when the freeze had subsequently settled, it was taken over by a burning hot sensation. It became like a cycle, making me lose my mind from the agony.

Damn it. After countless times of feigning illness lest it became the truth. The last time I underwent this crazy headache was also from our visit to Deliora.

That place must be freaking cursed. I thought as fatigue belatedly enveloped me and I welcomed it with open arms.

The pain had waned but it was replaced by tormenting memories. Face after face passed by me. It was a dream. There was no way it was real for I recognized all their faces and they were all dead. All dead because of me.

My breath quickened as I was surrounded and they thrust toward me. Their howls of horror were all I could hear but I could do nothing. The huge bile came coursing in the pits of my stomach and was stuck in my throat as if choking me. 

The endless throes had become a foreboding melody that ignited the darkest emotions within. They cried their grievances and grew more relentless as I was trapped in this vindictive world.

I didn't know how long it went until I was woken by the clamor of the servants. They were panicking but no one dared to approach me. No one, except for that familiar gray irises focused on me.

"Princess."

Xenon came forward and lifted me. I rested my head on the crook of his neck as I collapsed from all the tiredness in his arms. Just like the last time, when I reached Ezriel, all the convulsion had subsided like everything was just an illusion.

***

The sun was high up as I spent my time in leisure but there was an uneasiness crawling in the back of my mind, disturbing the relief that I was able to return and no unfortunate tragedy would happen.

I had fled from Deliora and the bride should already be sorted out. For sure, they would not pick someone who didn't even bother attending the final round. Right?

I was locked in a trance up to the time I was called by Gerard in the Blue Parlor.

I had expected to see my father and siblings inside since it was probably another one of Father's farces now that I had returned but I was wrong.

The Blue Parlor was located near the throne room and served as a place for important guests. I and Willow always stayed here during her visits. I was accustomed to its appearance and yet the porcelains that were carefully displayed before had been shattered with furniture flipped over while the curtains were torn to shreds.